It's been said before, he knows, but her lips are red as blood. Every time she speaks, he wants to lick them, maybe to bite that soft, giving flesh, but only gently. Bigby can be gentle, when he feels like it.
Her skin is white as snow, except in a very few places: the faint rosy flush to her cheeks, the pale coral of her nipples, the darker pink of her slit, warm and wet. She's sprawled casually on the bed, waiting for him. He can smell her desire, tinged with a subtle base note of fear. Fear of what? Him? He doubts it. Other folks are afraid of him, sure. Not Snow. It must be something else. She's not so afraid that she doesn't smile, though, and beckon him closer.
Her hair, like the stories say, is black like ebony, above and below. He strokes those coal-black locks between his fingers as he lies beside her. She still smells afraid, just a little, but it's rapidly being drowned out by lust. He smiles, and he's gladdened to see her smile back, because her smiles are rare, and therefore to be treasured. He slowly moves his hands down her body, bows his head to give her nipple a quick flick of the tongue, and she shudders just a little, but in a good way.
She's got that fuck-me smell, and it's so strong it's making him crazy. Her hands are on him, rubbing him slow, and he's more than ready, but she obviously doesn't want to rush it, so he's patient. He dips one finger into the slick-sweet cleft between her legs, sliding over the tight little knot of her clit and then inside. She gasps, eyes fluttering closed-open-closed, and squeezes her thighs tight around his hand. "Too much?" he asks, and pulls back from her depths.
She looks him in the eye, and she's got that mischievous smile now, the one that hardly anyone but him ever gets to see. "It's just, you've got such big hands."
"Heh. Yeah, I've heard that before." She arches an eyebrow at him, waiting, so he plays along. "All the better to hold you with." He cups her breast in his hand to demonstrate.
"And such big teeth," she says, running a finger over his lips.
"Oh, is that where this is going?" He grins, showing them off, and bites playfully at her finger. "All the better to eat you with, darling."
"Well, what are you waiting for, then?" She opens her legs wide, and he moves down between them, licking his lips. She tastes so fucking amazing, he wants to swallow every drop of her. Each lap of his tongue brings another moan to her lips, and it doesn't take long before she's clutching a fistful of blanket and biting her knuckle to muffle the screams as she comes, bucking her hips against his rough face.
He feels like he's burning up, and at that moment there's nothing in any world he wants more than to be inside her. "Let me in?" he asks, cock in fist, when she's at least slightly recovered.
Her laugh surprises him, until he figures out what it's about. "Are you saying I'm a pig?" she asks, teasing gently while rubbing her leg against the shiny-tight skin of his hard-on.
"Not in the slightest. Just that I've been waiting for this forever, and I don't think I can take it too much longer before I…"
"Then you'd better come in," she said, drawing him down on top of her. He pushes in with one quick stroke, and they both gasp, and it takes another minute before he can bring himself to pull back even halfway. She's got her fingernails dug into his shoulders, but he doesn't mind – the little bit of pain keeps him from coming right away.
He wishes it would last forever, but he knows it never does. He explodes into her with the force of years of pent-up yearning, before collapsing, huffing and puffing, beside her.
Later, when he's having a smoke, she says "Is this going to change everything?"
"I don't know. Probably." He knows, though, that whatever else changes, the way he feels about her won't.